I tell Steve I’m going to be stepping out for a couple of hours, but don’t tell him why. A girl has to keep a few secrets. It’s all part of the feminine mystique…supposedly.

Again I slip behind the wheel of my Neon and I drive away from the building where I spend a great deal of my life. If it weren’t for game design I think I would have gone mad long ago. I chuckle a little at myself as I look at my fingernails. I’m not entirely sure that I didn’t go mad already.

I catch glimpses of myself in the rearview mirror, and for the first time, my reflection screams female at me. It isn’t just the earrings. The lack of makeup should be enough to say guy, but it doesn’t. I look at my eyebrows, and wonder if they were shaped a bit while I was getting my hair and makeup done a couple of days ago, and then it hits me.

My hair is in a much more feminine style. Sure, my face may still have some harder lines to it that people normally associate with masculinity, but the fat deposits are softening it some…

I pull my eyes from the mirror and slam on the brakes. The car in front of me is stopped at an intersection, and my bumper appears to be only inches from his. I wonder for a moment if maybe it would be possible to link a ‘minder into an automatic navigation system, letting me pilot a car without needing to look at the road, and then laugh at myself.

There is a reason that I got into software design. I really love technology, even if certain parts of it scare the hell out of me.

I’d never have gotten a ‘minder if it hadn’t been forced on me. I’d read too much sci-fi as a kid, and a lot of it talks about the problems of such intimate technology.
My mom had talked about getting it removed, but I knew that wasn’t really an option. Sure, you could remove the core computer and GPS, but the Nano-filaments that connect into most portions of your brain were permanent.

I smile to myself as we get underway again. I’m a cyborg, although people really don’t use the term properly: CYBernetic-ORGanic hybrid. That’s what the term actually means, but so many people have lost it through the misuse of all of the Terminator-esque movies.

“Come with me if you want to live,” I say in a horrible Schwarzenegger impression. I smile at myself in the mirror, not seeing the resemblance at all. It’s still a little funny, at least to me.

Dr. Waters’ office looks like a home, and looking around at the neighborhood I’m in I realize it is a home. She’s pretty brave, in my opinion, welcoming the insane into her home on a regular basis.

I walk in, let the receptionist know who I am, and have a seat. I look at my nails, smiling at the blue that they still are, and wait to be let in. I’m a couple of minutes early, and so I wait a couple of minutes before I’m called.

“Liadan, I’m glad you could make it on such short notice.”

“What’s wrong, doctor?” I say, starting to get worried. Her expression strikes me as one that you put on to tell someone they have a terminal case of dead.

“You have a Virus,” she says.

“Oh, is that all…” I say relieved, but she doesn’t look happy.

“No, not a virus. A Virus with a capital ‘V’.” At my confused look she continues. “There are two primary types of nanotech. The first is mechanical. It’s what most everyone uses, because it is much easier to…kill I guess is the right term for it. Electromagnetic pulses are enough, and render them inert. ‘Clean is actually Nano-cells designed to emit timed pulses after they come in contact with water. Everyone knows how to use it; short range, clean and simple.

“The second type is a custom engineered virus. Virus nanotech is supposed to be reserved for medicinal use only. It treats cancer especially well. I’ve personally administered it to a couple of patients with brain tumors in the past. The problem is that there’s no easy way to eliminate it.

“In checking your blood work, I noticed some strange T Cells. They didn’t match any antigen profile I’d seen before. I assumed that you’d taken a Virus.”

“But…”

“I already contacted the company. They were unaware that any of the Virus version of the potion had made it onto the market.”

“What do you mean?”

“The potion you took is supposed to be a permanent solution. There are problems with it, though. In testing it never reacted the same way with all subjects.”

“If it’s supposed to be permanent…” I begin, but she interrupts me.

“Your body is fighting off the changes the virus wants to make. Your immune response changed you back into a guy. Unfortunately, the Virus seems to be multiplying to overcome your immune response.”

“How is that a problem, I don’t want to be a guy…” I begin to say before I start to feel weak.

“Liadan?”

Her voice sounds so far away. The room is spinning, and I feel nauseous all of the sudden. I try to move to the wastebasket, but I don’t make it. I vomit all over her rug, and notice there’s blood in it.

She’s trying to say something to me, but I can’t understand her. My throat feels raw, and I sit down on the ground, hard. The pain I felt on Friday was a gentle tickle compared to this. This feels like someone is pulling me apart…only from the inside. Then the burning begins. I want to cry out, but my lungs will not fill with air.

I lie there on the floor, curled tightly around myself, holding my legs to my chest, trying to blot out the world.

Sweat breaks out on my skin, and I am drenched in moments. It smells strange, but I don’t worry about it too much. The pain is overwhelming, and darkness engulfs me finally.

The soft beeping of machines slowly registers in my conscious mind. I’d been having a dream that I can no longer remember. The last piece of it that slowly slips away was about a white dress. I’m confused for a moment, wondering why a white dress would make me feel so happy before I realize something else.

I’m no longer in pain. Other than an increased weight on my chest, I feel lighter…a lot lighter. I try to open my eyes, but my eyelids seem to be the only heavy part of me left.

“Let me get that for you,” a soft voice says. I feel the lights turn off, and hear blinds drawn. Light generates heat. I could feel the sudden minor cooling of the room as the lights went out.

She, at least I assume it is a woman from the voice, removes something from my eyes, and I try to blink them open. They seem to be glued together, though, so she wipes my face. It seems she’s wiped away whatever was stuck in my eyelashes as I can finally open my eyes. Everything is blurry for a moment or two before I’m able to focus.

“How are you feeling?” she asks with a concerned look on her face. I don’t know her, but she’s wearing scrubs, so I assume I’m in a hospital of some sort.

“Parched,” I say, or at least croak. My throat still feels a little raw, but that’s probably because it’s so dry. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, and I can’t seem to work up any spit.

“Let me get you something, sweetie,” she says. As she walks away I wonder at that. She’s probably twenty-eight or twenty-nine, but the tone almost suggests that she was referring to someone younger than her…either very young boy, or a younger woman. I can’t decide which makes me less nervous.

She puts a glass with a straw in my hand and says, “Let me get Dr. Waters.”

She leaves me there in the semi-darkness and I nurse the liquid of the cup. It tastes like nothing, so I assume it is probably UltraPure. Some people like the lack of taste that truly pure water can provide. Me, I like the mineral taste more.

“Liadan, you gave us quite a scare there.”

“Not my fault,” I begin before something stops me. My voice is different. Not quite the furry tones of before, and it’s higher pitched. It sounds like sex. That’s about the only thing that I can think right then. It’s not just sexy, but one step beyond that. It’s like someone took everything that a woman’s voice should be and distilled it then added a drop of desire and a touch of moonlight.

I can’t help it. I smile.

“I see you’re beginning to realize what happened.”

“I changed again?”

“You could say that. More I’d say you really changed for the first time. I think the initial change was the Virus testing out the waters, so to speak,” she says with a smirk at the unintended pun.

“Why do I feel so weak?” I ask. Lifting the water took a lot out of me.

“You just went through the equivalent of major surgery, a marathon, long term starvation, and female puberty all at the same time.”

“Puberty?”

“Yes, you had your first period while you were asleep…among other things.”

“My…what!” I ask. I never thought to hear that term applied to me. Sure, I dreamed of maybe…but maybe was impossible even with modern science…or so I thought.

I sit there in a daze, and Dr. Waters just waits for me to process it.

My chest begins to itch a little so I put my hand up to scratch it and run into something much earlier than I intended. A smile splits my face as I bring my other hand up and check out my new protuberances.

I have breasts. I don’t know if they’re big, but they are there, and they’re mine.

“Doctor..?”

“Yes, you are most definitely a girl now.”

I squeal. I can’t help it. This is something that I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember, but never really had the courage to hope for.

“Calm down, there are a number of problems that I need to address first, Liadan.”

The tone of her voice sobers me. Something about all of this is striking me as strange, all of the sudden.

“First, you lost a lot of weight.”

“How much?”

“You’re down to one fifty.”

My mouth falls open.

“It seems that your body was using whatever it had to fuel this transformation. The changes that your body underwent were severe. Your bone structure changed, and you seem to be a bit shorter…”

“What?”

“Not much, only an inch or two.”

“How…why…”

“Good questions, both, but not that I have answers for. In the midst of the changes, you became sensitive to light and sound, so we isolated you in this room to make sure you were ok. Your GP is outside; I’ll let him handle the rest. I just wanted to assess your mental state before I handed you off to him.”

Dr. Jensen, my normal doctor, comes in then and pokes and prods me for a while. He also takes the blood work data from my ‘minder. I have to admit that never having to get blood drawn is nice, and might be worth keeping the silly little thing.

“So, Liadan, you seem to be a healthy young woman…sorry, I can’t get over your appearance.”

“What’s wrong with my appearance?”

He wordlessly hands me a mirror and I take a look at myself. I look younger, a lot younger, than I looked before, maybe nineteen or twenty. My face is almost transformed. Yes, it is still me peeking out of my blue eyes, but the bone structure has been softened.

“Wow…”

“You can say that again. Do you feel up to walking so we can measure your height properly?”

I let him help me to get out of bed, and self-consciously hold the back of my gown together. He smiles at me and helps me onto the scale. I stick my butt toward the wall so I can stand up straight with my hands to my sides. I’m still taller than him, and he has to reach up to settle the stick properly. I smile at that. When Dr. Waters mentioned that I was shorter, I’d sort of hoped that meant that I was less than six feet, maybe closer to five ten like my sister.

“Six one.” Dr. Jensen calls out and I have to smirk at myself. Well, unless I really want to tower over Steve, no heels. He’s only five eleven after all.

I find my mind drifting to Steve as we walk back to the room, and only the cool breeze on my backside reminds me that I am half naked.

“You seem well enough, and if I didn’t know what had happened over the past couple of days, I’d assume you were a perfectly healthy young woman.”

“But I’m not healthy, am I?”

“Actually, the Virus seems to have purged itself as soon as it made the modifications. Your immune system was the only thing preventing this from happening on Friday. We’ll want to check things out a bit more to make sure, but as far as we can tell you’re not contagious, and all active traces of your immune response have left your bloodstream.”

“Really?”

He smiles at me. “Yes, really. Now, I think there are some people who are anxious to see you. I’ll leave to begin working on your discharge papers.”

Kate and my mom enter the room and I smile at them. We begin talking about small things, like the fact that I look more like a younger sister than an older brother when I notice someone hiding in the doorway.

“Hello? I didn’t want to interrupt,” I hear a voice say. The tones send shivers up my spine because they are so familiar.

“Get your ass in here, Steve,” I say trying to be my old gruff self. It comes off a little more inviting with my new voice, though, and Steve is blushing when he fully comes into view.

“It’s not ladylike to swear, Liadan,” my mom says. We all laugh at that, and I smile at her.

“I know, mom, but it’s Steve. He wouldn’t have known it was me if I didn’t.”

“I know it’s you no matter what packaging you’re in. I’m in love with you, remember?”

I blush bright red at this statement, and my sister just grins.

“Is there something that you need to tell me?” mom asks.

“Your daughter finally admitted to me that she’s a woman on Monday, so I figured it was a great opportunity to tell her that I knew, and that I was in love with her. She’s kind of slow sometimes. We’ve sorta been dating for a few years now.”

“I’d wondered why no other girls had snatched you up,” Kate responds with a gleeful grin that just doesn’t end. I can’t blame her as my own is just as big.

“I wasn’t going to push it, because I didn’t know if she was interested in guys.”

“What? Really? You never caught me checking any of the new hires out? I mean, didn’t you ever wonder why I liked to do the interviews?”

“Wait, what?”

“You thought it was coincidence that there were so many good looking guys in the office?”

“To tell you the truth I never noticed.”

“Isn’t that against the law? I mean you’re not supposed to hire based on looks.” My sister says.

“Actually, there’s nothing against hiring a good looking work force, as long as you don’t say you’re hiring a good looking work force.

“And mostly it was a matter of hiring a better looking work force. If I have two equally qualified individuals, then I have to have something to differentiate.”

“I’m shocked, truly shocked,” Steve says in a severe tone. “I thought you only had eyes for me.”

“Steve, honey, it’s a girls prerogative to look, just like it is a guys. Just as long as it’s you I fantasize about…um…never mind that,” I say blushing furiously.

Steve can’t keep a straight face and he grins at me. “Well, as long as you fantasize only about me, then it’s okay.”

He leans over and I know he’s going to kiss me, and I ache to have him pressed against me. My mom clears her throat before he can accomplish his task though.

“Liadan, you two need to talk about some things, but let me put something bluntly for your partner in crime here.” She turns to Steve and puts on her mom face. “My daughter is a virgin, whether or not my son was. She is to remain in this state until you two get married. If I find that you’ve despoiled her, then it will be impossible for you two to get married.”

“Why’s that?” Steve says with a slight smile. The fear I feel is surely evident on my face and I shake my head slightly, hoping he will get the hint. Most people talk about dads being protective of their daughters. They’ve never met my mom.

“Because they’ll never find your body.” There is no smile on her face, and even I get chills. I’d heard more than one boy on the receiving end of that talk, and sometimes it amazes me that my sister got married at all.

“Ok, Mrs. Allenwood. Also, I’d like to assure you that Cray was a virgin before the change.”

“Steve!” I exclaim, blushing again.

“Well, unless you lied to me,” he says. His smile takes the potential sting out of the words.

The three of us talk quietly after that, with Steve just holding my hand. I hold onto it with all of my strength, sure that at any moment this fairy-tale will come to an end and I will wake up in my own bed, alone.

We sign the papers, and they let us leave. Mom brought the dress that I loved so much from Dahle’s, but it drapes on me. I’m still a tall woman, but nowhere near as big around. In fact, I almost imagine that Steve could encircle my waist with just his hands. It might not actually be that small, but the imagining is good.

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow, Steve.”

“Go shopping today then. I expect a well dressed woman if I’m going to be introducing her as my fiancée.”

“Steve…” I begin with a frown on my face.

“I can’t live without you, Liadan. At least think about it.”

“That’s not the problem,” I say beginning to laugh and cry at the same time. “You just assumed and you’re asking me in the middle of the hospital parking lot.”

”Oh, um, well, I should have thought that out a little better.”

“You should have bought a ring.”

Something seems to occur to him, and he pulls a small box out of his pocket. Before he can open it I put my hands over his and sadly shake my head.

“I can’t deal with this right now, Steve. I’m grungy, in an ill-fitting dress, my hair is a mess, and we’re standing in a hospital parking lot. When I think back to you actually asking me to marry you, I want to feel pretty and loved, not have it feel forced.”

“You’re always pretty, Liadan.”

I blush at that, but I’m scowling, even though inside my heart is racing and all I want to do is kiss him…and more than just kissing possibly.

“Steve, it’s a bad idea for us to get married.”

“If this is about work…”

“No, this is about the fact that every time we have an argument you’re going to disarm me with one of your wonderful compliments and I’m going to be putty in your hands.”

He begins to smile, but I shake my head. “Steve, I like you, I might even love you, but this is too much for me right now. I need time to think, alone, and you need to ask me out on a real date first.”

He opens his mouth to speak, and I hurry to stop him.

“Not right now. Wait a while first. I need some time. Call me later.”

I walk over to my car when my phone starts ringing. I answer it and Steve’s on the other end of the line.

“So, is it later yet?”

I can’t help it, I giggle.

“No, Steve. It’s not later. How about I call you, or I see you at work tomorrow.”

“You could always come in today. It’s only ten in the morning.”

“I literally have nothing to wear, Steve.”

“Come in nothing then.”

There is something…inviting in his voice and I blush bright red and want to smile at him, but I don’t. He wouldn’t see it anyway, “Go to work, Steve. I expect you to give me a full accounting when I get there tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, princess.”

I laugh and hang up. I drive my little Neon home, after adjusting the seat a bit. I get home and I can’t get out of the car. I sit there and shake, unable to get my new body under control. I realize that I said ‘no’ to Steve because I’m so very afraid. I’m afraid to really love him. I’m afraid to be loved. I’m afraid of the thoughts I’m having even now: that death is a better alternative to life.

I can imagine myself letting it all go. A red bathtub, or a bottle full of pills, it doesn’t matter much to me. I could even see starving myself to death. At least that has the option of being slow enough that I could always stop partway through. Then there’s the bus route.

I stepped out too early last time. This time, I could wait…or just run out onto a freeway.

I want to destroy my body completely. I hate that I am beautiful. I hate even worse that I am actually desirable. No one should be allowed to love me when I hate myself for the feelings that I am having now.

I love the feel of this dress across my breasts. The nipples may be covered in the pretty pink bra that no longer fits with my new measurements, but the tops are still sensitive, more sensitive than my old chest anyway.

I love the feel of the silky underdress as it moves, and I hate that I love it. I love the way my hair frames my new, softer face, and I want to claw out my own eyes so I can’t look at myself anymore.

The tears begin to stream down my face, and I can’t stop. This little scare with the hospital has shown me that people would miss me, and it would be selfish of me to end it all, but I really want to end it all.

“Just let me go back to being Cray!” I scream at the roof of my car. My new voice doesn’t sound good when I scream. As a guy, I could yell, and at least it was allowed. My new voice…not so much. It just goes all strangled and hoarse. It’s a voice meant to entice or respond with subtle disapproval, not castigate.

I hate my new voice. I hate my breasts. I hate my vagina. I hate myself so much right now because deep down I don’t hate any of it. Oh, I want to. I so want to. But deep down, I want to wrap these long legs around Steve and…my breathing becomes a little shallow as I think about what I’d really like to do.

It sickens me how much I need Steve.

“Liadan?”

I ignore the voice. Maybe she’ll go away.

“You’ve been out here for almost three hours. Open the door.”

I shake my head. Go away, I silently scream at Angela. Instead I look at her, and I see her get scared.

“Open the door, Liadan. Please? Open it now?” She’s beginning to cry, and so I cry harder. I can’t let her in. She’s already seen too much of my soul, and never turned away. If she sees this last part, she’ll turn away for sure.

I whisper because I can’t bring myself to speak, “Please, just leave me. I’m not worth it.”

“Sweetie, you’re worth it. Please, let me in.”

“He was right…I’m just a little whore and that’s all I’m ever going to be. All I can think about is how dirty I am. I’m a dirty little whore. He was right, and I was wrong. I can tell. I’m wet over the thought of what Steve could do to me…what I want him to do to me.”

“You’re scaring me, honey. Open the door.”

I’ve never told anyone what happened. I can’t bear it. I’d thought that I might one day open up to Dr. Waters, but it was too late now. He was right, and I was wrong.

“Liadan…open the door!” Angela is frantically pulling on the handle, but it’s locked. I turn on the ignition, and she runs away. I knew it would be too much. I hadn’t even gotten to the really ugly parts yet, the parts where he showed me how much I loved it. How my body responded to him.

He must be right. Not even a day has passed and already I want to lie down with another man.

I sit there, staring out the front window of the car for a couple of moments, and reach over to put the car into gear.

The passenger side window shatters inward, and a frantic Angela is opening the door and climbing inside. She puts her arms around me and turns off the car and I cry into her shoulder.

“You are not a whore, Liadan.”

“You don’t know me…”

“Yes, I know you. You’re not a whore. You are a good person.”

“No…” I’m shaking my head, protesting, but she won’t let me go. I’m so weak now. I can’t pull away. A wave of weariness washes over me and I yawn so wide that my jaw cracks. Angela and I laugh through our tears and she helps me inside…only it’s not my apartment that we enter.

“Angela…”

“I know. We usually do girls’ nights at your place. I thought we’d try mine today.”

“Angela! I can’t…”

“Of course you can.”

“I’m wearing all the clothes I own.”

“Lucky for you I wear my dresses on the long side. They should still, in general, fit you. You’re really skinny now.”

I look at her like she’s crazy, because I know she must be. There’s no way I’m as skinny as she is, and I tell her as much.

“Fine, I’ll prove it.”

She drags me into her bedroom, and tosses me a pair of her jeans. My legs are longer than hers, so I look questioningly at her. She just nods. I slip out of the dress, my first dress, and then slip into the jeans. No tugging. No fuss. They fit a little tighter in the behind than I’m used to, and they are snug around my new parts, but surprisingly comfortable.

I never knew that jeans could feel like this.

“I figured you wouldn’t believe me about a pair of baggy shorts, and since I never go in for hot-pants…”

“I wouldn’t have…but…” I gesture at the six inches of ankle I am showing.

“Yes, you have lovely ankles,” she says with a smirk.

“No, they’re a little high, aren’t they?”

“Nah, they’re just the wrong cut to be considered capris, although you could almost pull it off.”

She grabs me a shirt and a pair of shorts, and I change the jeans for the shorts.

“That bra really doesn’t fit you, does it?”

“No, the band is too big. The cups almost feel right, but the positioning is off.”

I get the shirt on, and it is so short it bares my belly-button.

“I can’t wear this…” I begin but she interrupts me.

“You are going to wear this. I need you to really embrace this. You’re a pretty girl, Liadan.”

“This is slutty.”

She gets really angry at my comment, and drags me over to her full length mirror.

“Ignore for the moment that’s you in the mirror. Tell me what you see.”

“A girl.”

“Go on, I know you’ve got a better eye than that.”

“She’s wearing a cream shirt and shorts.”

“And,”

“And she looks like an innocent girl next door, okay? But she’s not. She’s a slut and a whore and willing to jump any…”

She slaps me, hard, and I put my hand to my stinging cheek.

“You are not a whore.”

“But…”

“You want to have sex. Hallelujah.”

“What?”

“It’s normal.”

“No, it’s a sin.”

“If having sex is a sin, where do all the religious little boys and girls come from?”

I open and close my mouth a couple of times. I have nothing to say about that. The thoughts won’t come. I’m usually better at making arguments than this, but I just can’t, probably because I’m unwilling to cede my position.

“But…”

“Premarital sex, sure, that’s a sin, if you believe in that sort of thing. No one says anything about post-marital sex.”

I blush at the implications. An image of me in a white dress comes to mind. The fantasy continues with Steve’s hands as they slowly…

My knees buckle and Angela helps me over to her bed.

“I thought going weak in the knees was a turn of phrase.”

“For some, maybe, but not for you. I have to admit to being glad I had somewhere to sit a time or two at work.”

“Angela!” I say blushing bright red.

“What? It’s true. There have been some really fine looking guys come in. Steve’s not that bad either.”

I hide my face at that so she can’t see my grin and my even fiercer blush.

“I can’t be having this conversation with you.”

“Why not? I’ve been dying to have it with you for months. You need it. We need to get you out of your shell.”

“Can we get me out of my shell in a different shirt? I really don’t feel comfortable in this one.”

“Sure.”

She grabs a different shirt, which only goes down to the waistband of the shorts, but at least it covers me.

I go and look at myself in the mirror. The new clothing changes my outlook. I could see the sex kitten hiding under the surface with the other shirt. This one, however, just removes the underlying message. I see a cute twenty-something looking back at me.

I shake my head and the girl in the mirror mimics me. Her grin just makes her look even younger, and more innocent. The pain in her eyes belies the innocence on the surface, but it is an innocence that was destroyed by another, not given up by her.

I smile sadly at her, knowing everything she went through, and apologizing with that smile. She does the same for me and we both feel comforted.

“So…who’s this ‘he’ that you mentioned before?” Angela asks me quietly.